The Misadventures of Daisy and Swirl
by m81170
Summary: "Daisy bit her lip and nodded, trying hard not to audibly moan. The way Swirl wielded his hammer rendered her speechless." For the moments that boring, young geeks and social pariahs share - snapshots from Swirl and Daisy.
1. Stains

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Stains**"

_**. . .**_

At thirteen, Daisy was no ordinary teenager. She had a steady boyfriend she adored and a job she loved. In fact, just last week the investor of the website she worked for, Mrs. Evans, had raised Daisy's salary to five hundred dollars a month.

Sadly, though, she only saw about a fifth of that money. Once Mrs. Evans discovered that Daisy had spent her entire first month's pay on _Lord of the Ring_'s memorabilia for her boyfriend's Christmas present, she had insisted that Daisy open a banking account and start a college fund.

Secretly, this infuriated poor, teenage Daisy and she debated telling Mrs. Evans some rather rude things to express her feelings on the matter. However, by an unfortunate twist of fate, Mrs. Evans was also her boyfriend's grandmother. Daisy knew that she could never truly be mad at the person who gave birth to the person who gave birth to the most beautiful and perfect boy on the planet.

On January 31, 2002, a dejected Daisy trudged to the bank with her father and opened a savings account. With repeated sighs and constant grumbles, she filed away most of her monthly earnings for her "future." With yet another sigh, she thought about what a waste it was. The only future she could ever want was with the love of her life.

Her feelings on the matter were proven valid only a few months later when a crisis arose. It was June 7, 2002, and her boyfriend's birthday was only two weeks away. Daisy had found the most perfect present for him – the ring of Aragorn (retail price: $124.99) – but she needed more money in order to afford it. She had approached her father, Chief Swan of the Forks Police Department, about withdrawing money from her savings account in order to buy this perfect gift, but he had simply laughed at her and went back to watching baseball.

Daisy had huffed in irritation and fled the house, making sure to slam the front door as she left, so as not to make a scene in front of her father (or rather, to make a large enough scene that her father would understand how dire her circumstance was and yield in his judgment to allow her to withdrawal the necessary funds).

As she marched down the driveway to no place in particular, a small child of no more than two years old ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her legs.

"Basketball!" the child said, his face hidden by her kneecaps.

Mrs. McGregor, her neighbor from three houses down, ran down the sidewalk to capture her runaway son, but was stunted in her task. She attempted to pry the child away from Daisy's legs, but the boy started crying.

Not knowing what else to do, Daisy patted the young boy on the back (a move she had obtained from both her father and boyfriend). The boy immediately stopped crying at the touch of the stranger and muttered, "Basketball," before turning back to his mother and grabbing her hand.

Mrs. McGregor, impressed by Daisy's natural skill with her child, smiled brightly at her and explained that she was in need of a babysitter for the next three days because she had a work conference in Port Angeles.

Daisy hesitated at first; she had never baby-sat before. She was about to say no when Mrs. McGregor mentioned that her son's name was Anthony.

Anthony was the middle name of her beloved boyfriend. Just the sound of her boyfriend's middle name sent shivers down her spine. As she looked into Anthony's young eyes, her heart immediately softened towards the child.

Daisy could only think that anything that reminded her of her boyfriend could not be a bad thing. She had accepted Mrs. McGregor's offer to baby-sit, pleasantly surprised to find that the wages she would earn over the next three days would be enough to finish paying for her boyfriend's birthday present.

These are the circumstances that led to the giant stain of red fruit punch that now covered Mrs. McGregor's beige love seat.

_**. . .**_

Swirl was getting increasingly agitated. He had not seen or heard from his girlfriend in almost three days and he missed her dearly. She hadn't answered his calls and he was beginning to worry. He had taken to eating Lucky Charms, his girlfriend's favorite cereal, to feel connected to her.

It was three o'clock in the afternoon, and Swirl was still in his pajamas, sitting in the beanbag chair in front of his duel-monitor computer. He kept the beanbag chair hidden in his closet when his girlfriend came over, not wanting her to know that he did, in fact, spend so much time in front of his computer that he required something of such leisure to keep him comfortable.

Grabbing a handful of Lucky Charms, he shot a yearning glance at a picture of his girlfriend, before returning his attention to the LotR RPG forum he was participating in.

_**.**_

Re: A Quite Existence  
-Reply #143 on June 10, 2002

**SwordOfAragorn**  
Full Member

_Muyuril gazed longingly at the sword he now held in his hand and he suddenly felt like he was being watched. He continued to look upon the divine craftsmanship the elves had placed in the weaponry, though his focus was now divided. He tightened his grip on the sword, preparing to whirl around at a moment's notice. _

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #144 on June 10, 2002

**RedHeadsHaveMoreFun**  
Full Member

_Elelith watched Muyuril from a distance, wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly feeling cold and alone. She pretended it was Muyuril's arms around her instead of her own._

_**.**_

Swirl rolled his eyes at the computer screen. Elelith was always pining away for him and he couldn't understand it. He had made it clear on several occasions to Victoria, Elelith's creator, that Muyuril was not interested because he had a beautiful elf, Bellewyn Riel, waiting for him in Lothlorien. He was beginning to think that Elelith _liked_ the fact that Muyuril was a taken man.

The shrill sound of the phone ringing saved Swirl from having to answer Victoria 's ridiculous post. "Thank you for calling. This is Edward Cullen, the founder and president of MyT-Spot .com speaking. I appreciate your call, how may I help you?"

"Help me!"

"Bella?" Swirl's face lit up with the sound of his girlfriend's voice and his heart started beating a hundred miles per second. "I can't begin to tell you how glad I am to hear your vo–"

"I don't know what to do! There's a huge stain and I tried scrubbing it but it's still pink and I can't figure out how to get it out!"

"Okay, first you need to calm down," Swirl said in a reassuring voice. "You don't need to worry; I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing."

"With fruit punch stains?"

Swirl shot a glance over to his bed. "Not exactly with fruit punch stains."

"What kind of stains?"

Swirl's cheeks grew warm at the thought of exactly what kind of stains haunted him. The, uh, "stains" had increased exponentially since he started dating Daisy and after a rather humiliating talk with his parents, his mother had appointed him the task of washing his own bed sheets. "Um, it doesn't really matter. It's all the same thing."

"Whatever. What should I do? I'm doing everything I can, but it won't come out!"

"It's really simple. Throw the sheets in the washing machine with color-safe bleach and set the temperature to cold."

"Anthony spilt fruit punch on a beige couch, not bed sheets!"

Swirl's face paled and he couldn't seem to form any coherent words.

"Edward?"

"Who - who is Anthony?" he asked quietly, both anxious and afraid to know the answer. Whoever this other boy was, he was the reason Swirl hadn't seen Daisy in days. He immediately hated him.

"The little tyrant that lives down the street from me that I've been baby-sitting for the last few days. He spilled fruit punch on the couch and I can't get it out!"

Relief flooded Swirl and he let out a breath. It was quickly replaced with doubt, since he did not know how to get a fruit punch stain out of a beige couch and he did not want to fail Daisy.

"Give me a second, okay?"

"All right," Daisy said.

Normally, it was an unspoken rule that you did not post messages of a personal nature on the LotR RPG forum, but this was an emergency so Swirl made an exception.

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #145 on June 10, 2002

**SwordOfAragorn**  
Full Member

_The boy my girlfriend is babysitting just spilled red fruit punch on a beige couch. What should she do? Is it a hopeless cause?_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #146 on June 10, 2002

**RogueDemonHunter**  
Full Member

_Are you talking about the hottie from the Midnight Showing of FotR?_

_Se vain gîn palan-istannen!_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #147 on June 10, 2002

**EnelyaNessae**  
New Member

_club soda? oxiclean?_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #148 on June 10, 2002

**Dili Longbeard**  
Full Member

_seltzer?_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #149 on June 10, 2002

**gothmog**  
Full Member

_I don't know for sure, but there ya go! _www. Goodhousekeeping .com/ home/ stain-buster/stains-fruit-punch-may07

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #149 on June 10, 2002

**Witch-King**  
Junior Member

_Club soda or seltzer! Blot, don't rub. If that doesn't work or you don't have it...stain stick. Shout/Tide._

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #150 on June 10, 2002

**SwordOfAragorn**  
Full Member

_Thank you!_

_**.**_

Swirl let out a sigh of relief, content that his RPG group had not failed him. "You need to get some seltzer and blot it on the stain."

"Okay, I will do that. What exactly is seltzer?"

"Bella, how can you not know what seltzer is?" Swirl asked, adding a tone of indignation for good measure.

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #151 on June 10, 2002

**SwordOfAragorn**  
Full Member

_At the risk of sounding like an idiot - what is seltzer and what does it look like?_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #152 on June 10, 2002

**RogueDemonHunter**  
Full Member

_How can you not know what seltzer is?_

_It's water infused w/sodium bicarbonate, aka soda water._

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #153 on June 10, 2002

**Witch-King**  
Junior Member

_Plain __carbonated water__ - not tonic!_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #154 on June 10, 2002

**RedHeadsHaveMoreFun**  
Full Member

_Isn't it carbonated water?_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #155 on June 10, 2002

**gothmog**  
Full Member

_drugrecallwatch. files. wordpress. com/2009/12/alkaseltzerfizz. jpg_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #156 on June 10, 2002

**EnelyaNessae**  
New Member

_It looks like sprite...Its just carbonated water. Good for stains!_

_**.**_

"How would I even begin to know what it is? Stop acting like a know-it-all and tell me or the stain is going to set!"

"It's carbonated water. It looks like Spite," Swirl replied, once again barely managing to keep up the façade that he was a perfect boyfriend. He thanked his lucky stars he had made such great online friends.

He could hear Daisy in the background shuffling through cabinets and the refrigerator. She growled in irritation before clamoring back to the phone. "She doesn't have seltzer! Who doesn't keep a bottle of seltzer around? She has a bottle of Woolite pet stain remover. I'm going to try that. Stay on the phone with me?"

Swirl's heart jumped at her words. "Of course I will," he uttered with complete sincerity, elated that she liked him enough to want him to stay on the phone with her.

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #157 on June 10, 2002

**SwordOfAragorn**  
Full Member

_Okay, she doesn't have seltzer or club soda but she does have a bottle of Woolite pet stain remover. Do you think that will work?_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #158 on June 10, 2002

**Witch-King**  
Junior Member

_Tell her to put the woolite on very heavy and let it sit for ten minutes._

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #159 on June 10, 2002

**EnelyaNessae**  
New Member

_What kind of material is it, is it a suede or microfiber?_

_**.**_

"Bella?" Swirl asked, pulling Daisy's attention back to the phone.

"Yes?"

"Make sure you put the Woolite on heavy and let it sit there for a few minutes. What kind of material is the couch?"

"How am I supposed to know what kind of material the couch is?" She screeched in a slightly hysterical voice.

"Tell me what it looks like," Swirl prompted patiently.

"Um, it's beige and really cushy but tough. It kind of feels like jeans, except not at all."

Swirl tried to stifle his laughter. She was too cute.

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #160 on June 10, 2002

**SwordOfAragorn**  
Full Member

_She has no idea._

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #161 on June 10, 2002

**gothmog**  
Full Member

www. mrscleanusa. com/en/cleaning-tips/stain-removal/

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #162 on June 10, 2002

**Witch-King**  
Junior Member

_Tell her she needs to use the Woolite more than once and make sure she's using cold water and not hot or it will set the stain._

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #163 on June 10, 2002

**EnelyaNessae**  
New Member

_Peroxide and baking soda. Test a spot first and make sure it doesn't lighten the fabric._

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #164 on June 10, 2002

**SwordOfAragorn**  
Full Member

_She doesn't have any baking soda._

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #165 on June 10, 2002

**RogueDemonHunter**  
Full Member

_What kind of person doesn't have baking soda in their house?_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #166 on June 10, 2002

**Witch-King**  
Junior Member

_Be careful w/ beige... test whatever you use so you don't end up w/a white spot. Put it on an area nobody can see first and make sure she's using cold water not warm. Warm water will set the stain faster._

_**.**_

"Make sure you're using cold water. Warm water will set the stain faster," Swirl said, hoping this little tidbit would impress Daisy even further.

"How do you know all of this stuff?"

Swirl paused. Telling Daisy the truth would take away some of the bravado. He decided to change the subject. "Where's Anthony at?"

"Huh?"

"The kid? Anthony?"

"Oh, he's in front of the TV, watching _Tarzan_… again." He could hear the exasperation in her voice, and swore he would never let her subject herself to this kind of torture again for finances sake.

"How's the stain looking?" he asked.

"Maybe it's wishful thinking, but it does look less pink. I don't think it's going to come out completely."

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #167 on June 10, 2002

**SwordOfAragorn**  
Full Member

_The Woolite doesn't seem to be working all the way…_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #168 on June 10, 2002

**RedHeadsHaveMoreFun**  
Full Member

_Damn Woolite and their false advertising!_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #169 on June 10, 2002

**KaylieFaye**  
New Member

_Hello!_

_I looked it up… pretend it's red wine: It says you will need: White wine, Salt, Baking Soda, Talcum Powder, Club Soda & Boiling water_

_1. Begin by blotting with a clean cloth to remove as much of the wine as possible. BLOT throughout this entire process DO NOT SCRUB_

_2. Dab the stain with white wine and blot with a clean cloth._

_3. If the stain still remains, try dabbing a little bit of club soda on the stain and blot to remove._

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #170 on June 10, 2002

**SwordOfAragorn**  
Full Member

_Uh, she doesn't have __white wine, baking soda, talcum powder, club soda…_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #171 on June 10, 2002

**RogueDemonHunter**  
Full Member

_Again, what kind of person is this?_

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
-Reply #172 on June 10, 2002

**EnelyaNessae**  
New Member

_2 cups warm water with 5-6 drops blue Dawn dishwasher liquid. Soak, cover with towel, warm iron. Lifts the stain right out._

_**.**_

Re: A Quiet Existence  
Reply #173 on June 10, 2002

**KaylieFaye**  
New Member

_Maybe you could just try with salt?_

_**.**_

Daisy was growing more irrational on the phone. "It's never going to come out! What if she takes away all of the money I've made in the last three days to pay for the damages?"

"That's not going to happen, I promise," Swirl said, at a loss for how exactly to comfort his girlfriend. She did tend to get hysterical over the smallest things.

"You can't guarantee that! This is never going to come out…" She sounded so defeated on the phone and Swirl felt as if his heart may crack at the disappointment in her voice.

An idea hit him – one so brilliant that he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. "Wait! Don't give up yet; I have one more idea!"

_**. . .**_

The last three days were probably the worst of Daisy's young life. Anthony was the most obnoxious child in the history of the world. He said the word "basketball" at least twenty times an hour and was obsessed with the movie _Tarzan_. Daisy had already watched that movie _six times_ in the past seventy-two hours.

On top of that, Mrs. McGregor had a seven-month old dog that was in heat. She pranced around the house in her doggie-diaper, acting like Daisy was her personal chew-toy. Throw in the three hours that she had just spent cleaning the damn couch, and Daisy had hit her limit. She'd already sworn off ever having children and she vowed never to baby-sit again.

The sound of the McGregor's doorbell ringing was like angels singing to Daisy's ears. Her savior was here.

She practically ran to the door and flung it open with a huge smile on her face. "Thank God you're here, Esme!"


	2. Swirl's Hammer

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Swirl's Hammer"**

Daisy had never realized how good Swirl could be with his hands.

"A little to the left," she said. He immediately accommodated her request. "Yes, right there."

"Are you sure?" Swirl wanted to make sure that his beloved was satisfied.

Daisy just bit her lip and nodded, trying hard not to audibly moan. The way Swirl wielded his hammer rendered her speechless.

After a few moments of adjusting it to just the right angle, Swirl positioned his hammer and gently started tapping it against the delicate object he now held between his fingers.

"Edward. You have to pound it harder or it's not going to go in," Daisy softly reminded from below him.

Swirl grunted and began to exert the slightest bit more force.

"Harder, Edward," Daisy said, now a bit frustrated by the soft and steady pace Swirl didn't seem inclined to exceed.

"Bella, if I go any harder, I could possibly damage it more than I need to."

She rolled her eyes. "It's inevitable that it's going to break but that doesn't mean you have to go obnoxiously slow."

"I'm not being slow, I'm being gentle," he said.

Daisy couldn't help it; even though his prodding was absurdly careful, her moan had been building for minutes and the sight of her beautiful boyfriend above her was too much to handle.

Swirl went rigid at the sound and stopped his movements. After a moment, he twisted around on the small ladder he was standing on with a wide, crooked grin on his face and a quirked eyebrow. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Daisy feigned innocent, but the involuntary blush that spread across her soft features gave her away.

Swirl swiftly hopped down from his perch and strode over to his girlfriend, standing so close in front of her that he could feel the turbulent pitter-patter of her heart.

He brought a tender hand to her heated face and gently caressed it with his fingertips. Daisy's eyes fluttered close and she once again couldn't help the soft moan that fell from her lips.

"That's what I thought," Swirl said with a smile in his voice, before he brought his lips to hers for a quick but sweet kiss.

Too soon for Daisy's liking, he stepped away from her and climbed the ladder. A pout formed on her lips. She could practically feel the broad smirk Swirl now wore. He knew how he affected her and took pleasure that he was the only person who could make his girlfriend feel that way.

Which is why he didn't mind the fact that he was hanging a framed _Harry Potter_ poster in her bedroom. He brought the hammer back up to the nail and pounded harder.


	3. Leafy Greens

The lovely **gkkstitch** presented me a challenge. I wrote a Swirl and Daisy drabble every day for three weeks based off a word prompt she provided and posted them on Twitter and Livejournal (links on my profile). Thanks to **xsecretxkeeperx** for editing them.

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Leafy Greens and the Dangers of Lying"**

_**. . .**_

Daisy gazed affectionately down at her boyfriend. His complexion was paler than normal, and she could feel a slight tremor reverberate through his body as she swept cool fingers over his heated forehead.

"You're sick," she said, not able to hide the worry in her voice.

"It's just a little food poisoning," Swirl responded with a tiny grimace.

He was lying.

Daisy had refused to attend the LotR convention in Seattle with him. She kept saying no — that she'd kiss an orc before attending one. So, he had learned a few tricks online to fake illness, hoping to appeal to his girlfriend's sympathy.

"It's all right. I'll take care of you," Daisy said softly. He looked so cute when he was vulnerable.

Swirl couldn't help the small grin that tugged at his lips. He was sure she had fallen right into his trap. The smile quickly slipped, however, when she excitedly said, "I could cook you something! Or make you a salad?"

Swirl hesitated to respond to Daisy's generous offer. It wasn't that he didn't like her cooking. He just didn't think it tasted good.

"Leafy greens have become one of the most common sources of food poisoning outbreaks in the US," he quoted from an article he had read while researching his current ailment. "It's possible the shredded lettuce in the taco salad last night is why I'm sick. It's best to stay away," he reasoned. "But there is something—"

"Homemade soup it is, then!" Daisy cut him off cheerfully. She was positive she'd be able to imitate Esme's recipe from memory.

"No, really! I'm feeling bett—"

But Daisy was already out his bedroom door, running to the kitchen.

Maybe it hadn't been the best idea after all.


	4. Polar Bears

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Polar Bears and the Dangers of Metaphors"**

_**. . .**_

At 16, Swirl was nothing if not a man of consistency. He loved _Lord of the Rings_. He loved his parents. He loved his girlfriend.

Daisy, on the other hand, confused the bejeezus out of him. One moment she had seemed to like LotR, only to really like _Harry Potter_. Now she was on some sort of Discovery channel kick. When Swirl had asked her about it, she'd only murmured something about mammals and The Bloodhound Gang — whatever that was.

Swirl decided not to give her too hard a time about it, though, because he was supportive of the educational information it provided. And, really, it was only background noise in the movie room, where another more _exciting_ form of mammal interaction was taking place.

However, some things could not be ignored. "Penguins are indigenous to Antarctica," Swirl groaned, pulling away from Daisy's lips. "There's no way they would be in the North Pole!"

Daisy giggled. "That's because you weren't paying attention. It's a documentary on whether penguins can survive in a different habitat if scientist's put them there."

Swirl glanced over at her and noted how beautiful she looked in the light of the TV, slightly flushed from their activity and smiling brightly as she watched the cute, little penguins on the screen.

"Did you know that penguins mate for life?" Swirl asked, suddenly overcome with desire to tell her how much he loved her.

"That's so romantic," she said wistfully.

"Bella, I feel that way about—"

A gasp from Daisy's lips. His eyes shot over to the TV screen just as a polar bear caught site of a stray penguin.

They both watched in silent horror as the polar bear ate his metaphor.


	5. Tacos

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Tacos and the Dangers of Muttering Random Words Out Loud"**

_**. . .**_

"You've got pussy, cooter, cunt, hoo-hah…"

Daisy was sick today.

"…fuzzy beaver, pink panther, cootchie…"

And Swirl was stuck at school by himself.

"…kitty, vajayjay, cha-cha…"

So he was forced to sit with his teammates at lunch.

"…baby-maker, bearded clam…"

And was on the verge of being sick.

"…so I'm just wondering why they would call it a vagina when there are so many better alternatives," Newton said, taking a bite of his tuna fish sandwich.

The table burst into conversation about the crude euphemisms for the female body part. Swirl opened his lunch bag in desperate need of a distraction. He wasn't particularly hungry after all the food analogies, but he needed to focus on something other than the offensive language around him.

"Tacos?" Swirl muttered, surprised that his mother had made such an effort with his lunch. She must have known he'd need something special to get through his day without Daisy.

It took a moment, but he soon became aware of the stilted silence that had settled over the table. He glanced up from his lunch bag to find his teammates staring at him.

"Duuuuude," Tyler said, "how did we forget taco?"


	6. Body Lotion

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Body Lotion and the Dangers of **_**Sensitive Material**_**"**

_**. . .**_

"Edward, what is this doing here?"

Swirl looked up from the computer screen, before he frantically scurried across the room, stumbling over his feet, in order to snatch the bottle of Strawberry Delight body lotion from Daisy's hand

"What the hell are you doing with that?" he asked, maybe a bit more panicked than he intended.

"I was looking for the t-shirt release forms," Daisy lied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"In my nightstand drawer?" Swirl shrieked. He kept some very sensitive, uh, _material_ in there.

Daisy shrugged and asked again, "So, what is it doing here? Did you take it from my bedroom?"

"Of course I didn't!"

"But it's the exact same kind I use," she said.

"Yes, I know," Swirl said reluctantly.

Daisy stood there with an expectant cocked eyebrow and a small pout on her lips. From that one look alone, Swirl knew that she would not give up easily. He couldn't tell her the truth, though — it would freak her out.

"Your scent is like a drug to me," he blurted under the pressure of her gaze. By the slight softening of Daisy's expression, he could tell he had said the right thing. She was a strange girl. "And it just so happens I can get it at Bath and Bodyworks on sale for $19.99."

"Do you use it or something?" Daisy asked, more than a little flattered that Swirl adored her so much.

"No, of course not."

"Then why is like half of it gone?"

Swirl froze, trying to come up with an explanation that did not include the intimate details of exactly what he used the lotion for: "Massage?"


	7. Bikes

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Bikes and the Softer Side of Learning to Ride"**

_**. . .**_

It was a rare day, indeed. The sun was shining brightly (an uncommon pleasure for the inhabitants of Forks, Washington), and seven year old Daisy was actually there to enjoy it.

She had only visited her father's small town four times in the past five years. Chief Swan would always take the full two weeks a year off work that Daisy was there, so that he could spend as much time with her as possible. Even though she often missed him while she lived in Phoenix with her mother, she couldn't help the growing feeling every time she came back to her birthplace that she didn't quite fit in with the rest of the town's occupants.

Everyone in town seemed to know who she was, and they'd shower her with overenthusiastic smiles and odd compliments about how much she'd grown up in the year since they'd last seen her.

Daisy, always a shy girl, was more than content to hide behind her father's legs until the people stopped fawning over her. Chief Swan was more determined than ever for Daisy to make some friends here, perhaps a little misguided in his thinking that if she grew attached to someone when she came to visit, he'd get to see her more often.

It was with that mentality that Chief Swan took Daisy to the park on her last day in Forks. It was filled with the town's lively residents trying to soak up the last bit of summer they'd see for a year. A group of children Daisy's age were playing Power Rangers on the jungle gym, while the adults gathered around picnic tables and barbequed.

Chief Swan tried introducing his daughter to the children playing, but Daisy managed to elude him, finding a hiding spot in an overlooked slide by the edge of the playground.

Daisy stayed there, under the pretense of playing hide and seek, and used her imagination to pretend she was back in Phoenix with the people she knew and loved. She was interrupted a short time later by the sound of two voices approaching. She listened closely to see if one was her father, coming to find her and pull her back to the festivities.

"You're eight years old now," one voice said, "I think it's time you properly learned how to ride a two wheel bike."

"Dad, I already know how to ride a bike," the other, much younger voice said. "The rider balances him or herself on the seat of the bicycle, using the momentum built up by the pedals to propel the wheels on. The friction built up between the rubber wheels and the cement provides the rider enough tension to—"

"Yes, son, you know how a bike works in theory," the man cut him off easily, as if he'd heard the same explanation a million times before, "but bike riding can not be learned through a book. Theory and execution are two very different things, and it takes practice to really know how to ride."

"But why now?" the younger voice responded, changing tactics. "I'm right at the part where Elrond decides to reforge the sword of Elendil and take it to Aragorn in Dunharrow. You wouldn't want me to miss that, now, would you?"

The man chuckled and Daisy could picture him patting his son on the shoulder. "You've read that book five times since you got it for your birthday. _Lord of the Rings_ will be waiting for you when you get home. A day like this, however, will slip away in a few hours. Humor your old man and spend it with me."

Daisy heard the boy sigh in resignation and mutter something about how he'd rather ride a horse like Aragorn than a bike.

As the two voices faded into the distance, Daisy poked her head out of the slide. She could see the backs of a statuesque man with blonde hair (who, in her humble opinion, looked a lot like her Ken Barbie doll) and a boy of her age pulling a bike along side him.

After that, for some reason she couldn't explain, she asked her mother if every summer she could stay in Forks for two extra weeks.

And she asked her father if he could teach her how to ride a bike.


	8. Water Bottles

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Water Bottles and the Dangers of Hiking"**

_**. . .**_

"How the hell did you convince me to hike all the way up here?" Daisy panted, swiping a hanky across her sweaty brow.

"I used my natural charm and wit," Swirl joked, stopping in the middle of the path and reaching into his backpack to pass Daisy her water bottle.

"Don't forget your natural sex appeal," Daisy muttered, eyeing her boyfriend appreciatively as he took a swig from his own water bottle. Swirl had always been a cute boy, but at the age of seventeen he was stunning. Daisy swore he was the only person who could be gross and sweaty and look amazingly hot all at the same time.

"So, I take it you're not enjoying yourself," Swirl said, more than a little disappointed. He had invited her to come on a short hike to help him find a unique species of frog for a science project. The search had been a bit more difficult than he had expected. They weren't lost, per se — he just didn't know where they were.

"Well, besides being _lost_," Daisy made sure to emphasize the word, "hungry, and hot as hell, I'm having a grand 'ole time."

"You certainly are hot as hell," Swirl muttered under his breath, catching a glimpse of her stomach as she stretched her arms up to fan herself. He'd swear that she was the only person on the planet who could be gross and sweaty, but incredibly beautiful at the same time.

"Of course, I wouldn't be hungry if a certain somebody hadn't assumed we'd be home before lunch," she said.

Swirl rolled his eyes and took another drink from his water bottle. She'd been making smug comments like this for the last few hours.

"And we would have been home before lunch if that certain somebody knew the area half as well as he claimed to at the start of the trip."

Swirl's jaw tightened minutely.

"Or if that certain somebody had brought a map," she tacked on.

He gritted his teeth.

"And I wouldn't be dying of heat if a certain somebody had actually checked the weather report before we left the house."

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"You're hot?"

"Duh."

"Then this should help." Swirl lifted his bottle and squirted Daisy with a splash of water.

She squealed loudly as the cool liquid hit her chest. "Oh my God, I can not believe you did that!" she shouted, genuinely angry. "I was just telling the truth!"

Swirl was too busy laughing to retort. The look on Daisy's face had been priceless and totally worth the reprimand.

"Ugh. This is a white shirt and you can totally see my bra now!"

Swirl's laughter died out immediately as his eyes flew to her chest. Sure enough, the slightest tinge of pink could be seen through the damp fabric. It took a moment before Swirl realized that he was staring, and he quickly averted his gaze, flaunting newly reddened cheeks and chastising himself for his ungentlemanly behavior.

Daisy noted his reaction with curiosity. Swirl was an interesting character. Determined to the core to remain a virgin until they were married, he had only allowed himself to touch Daisy's chest twice (much to her dismay).

A sudden idea struck and she took on a calculated demeanor. Perhaps being lost and alone with Swirl wasn't such a bad thing.

"Actually," she said, changing her tone of voice completely, "that's not a bad idea."

Swirl couldn't take his eyes off her as she seductively pulled her beautiful hair out of her ponytail and poured her entire bottle of water over her head and down her t-shirt.

"Look at that," Daisy said, glancing down at her soaked shirt. "It wasn't as hard to cool off as I thought it would be."

Oh, it was hard all right.


	9. Parenting

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Parenting and the Dangers of Arguably Compromising Dialogue"**

_**. . .**_

"No, Edward, you're supposed to put it in down there."

"I'm trying to make it fit, Bella, but it just doesn't feel right."

"Oh, come on, it's not that hard."

"I disagree, it is very hard."

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is. Trust me. It doesn't get much harder than this."

"Just use your fingers, not your whole hand."

"Do you want to try this yourself?"

It was Dr. Cullen's misfortune that he happened to be passing his son's bedroom just as these words were being exchanged — quite loudly — between the two teenagers. He was beginning to panic. What was a responsible adult supposed to do in this situation? Was he supposed to keep walking, pretending that he hadn't heard anything, or should he barge in and catch the kids doing… _it_.

_That_ was a mental image he could certainly live without.

He cringed as he heard a loud grunt and an enthusiastic, "It's in!" from his son.

One thing he did know for sure was that Chief Swan could never hear of this. Or did he have a right to know that his daughter was sexually active?

"Wait, now that I think of it, do you think we should use some kind of protection?"

Dr. Cullen's jaw dropped. They weren't using birth control? How stupid were they?

"Like what, Bella? It's not like I have anything on me and now that we're finally doing this, I don't want to run to the store. Anyway, I don't think anything will fit — it's really big."

"It's not that big," Daisy argued. "What about saran wrap? There's some in the kitchen."

"STOP!" Dr. Cullen shouted, opening the bedroom door. Damn the consequences. He was a doctor — it was his job to educate.

He had expected to find Daisy and Swirl in a compromising position on the bed or the bay window bench or even on the dresser. What he had not expected was to find them fully clothed, hovering frozen over the computer, staring at him in shock.

Past the point of maintaining even one molecule of dignity, he walked over to the two teenagers, placed a hand on each of their foreheads, and separated them as far as possible.

"What is going on here?" he asked firmly (or as firmly as a man separating two teenagers by the palms of his hands could). After all, he was the parent in this situation. Even if he hadn't heard arguably compromising dialogue between the two teens, he still had the right to randomly check in on them. Right?

"We're installing the new graphic tablet we received a few weeks ago to work on t-shirt designs," Swirl explained, slightly stunned. "But it's really complicated."

"Is not," Daisy argued quietly.

Dr. Cullen nodded slowly, comprehending the situation. He let his hands fall to his side and declared, "From now on in my household you will speak only in complete sentences." Realizing this was possibly an unreasonable request, he added, "Or just talk very, very quietly."

He could feel both Swirl's and Daisy's stares bearing into him as he nodded firmly once more and moved to leave. He paused when he reached the door — he had one more thing he needed to add. "And _always_ use protection."


	10. Panties

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Panties and the Dangers of Expanding Product Lines"**

_**. . .**_

"I think we need to expand our MyT-Spot product line," Daisy said from her seat at the computer.

"What do you mean?"

"All of these other websites are offering things like coffee mugs, binders, and stickers. We just can't compete only producing t-shirts. I mean, look, this one website is even offering customized panties," she explained, pointing to the computer monitor.

"Nonsense." Swirl peeked over her shoulder. "Why would anyone possibly want to customize their undergarments? What is the appeal of that?"

Daisy clicked through the merchandise, amused by some of the choices. "Um, it looks like they put pictures of their favorite celebrities on them."

"That's incredibly creepy," Swirl said in shock. "Who the hell comes up with this kind of stuff?"

"What? You mean to say that you wouldn't want someone walking around with a picture of you on their crotch?" Daisy joked.

Swirl snorted. "Edward Cullen underwear — yeah, that'd be a bestseller."

"I'd buy a pair," Daisy said under her breath.

_**. . .**_

_www. geekstir. com/edward-cullen-underwear_


	11. Pinkies

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Pinkies and the Dangers of Speaking to Rosalie Hale"**

_**. . .**_

Daisy held up her pinky. "Really? It's that small?" she asked, not sure if she believed her friend.

"Only according to Cynthia," Angela said. "I've obviously never seen one before."

Rosalie snorted from the other end of the bathroom counter. "That's bullshit."

"No, really. I'm a virgin." Angela sounded far more disappointed than offended at the blonde's objection.

"That I believe," said Rosalie. "I was referring to penis sizes."

"I hate the term 'penis,'" Daisy said distractedly.

Rosalie tilted her head, clearly amused. "And what exactly do you prefer to call it?"

"I don't know. I just think penis sounds… ugly," Daisy said.

Rosalie smiled deviously. "All right, I'll play. I call Emmett's 'Leonardo.' What do you call Edward's?"

"Leonardo?" Daisy repeated in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's the name of Emmett's penis. I was going through a Leonardo DiCaprio phase when I first started dating him and named it so I could say I gave Leo head."

Daisy was too busy going through a mental index of _Lord of the Rings_ terminology, trying to figure out which name Swirl chose for his… "thing," to respond. She would put her money on Anduril (the name of Aragorn's sword) if she was a betting woman. Daisy hoped not, otherwise the replica of Anduril she got Swirl for Christmas wouldn't be as special.

"You named Emmett's penis?" Angela asked, shocked.

"Yeah, every guy has a name for his penis."

"That totally isn't true," she argued.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "We're getting away from the point. The only real way to judge the size of a guy's penis is to look at his hands."

"What do you mean?" Bella asked.

Rosalie lifted her hand, forefinger out and thumb up in the shape of a gun. "The size of a guy's penis is the same as the width from the tip of his index finger to tip of his thumb."

"Do you know that for sure?" Angela asked.

"I tried it out on Emmett and it worked." She shrugged and walked to the door; it was nearly time for class to start. Before she left, she turned and said, "By the way, whenever you see a guy's hands from now on you're going to be thinking about the size of his penis. Just thought I'd warn you."

Later that night, Daisy sat with Swirl in the movie room watching _Pride and Prejudice_.

As she absentmindedly played with his fingers, not an uncommon occurrence while watching a movie, she realized she had shaped his forefinger and thumb into the mold of a gun.

"Uh, Bella? What are you doing with my hand?"

Daisy blushed at more than being caught.


	12. Sneakers

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Sneakers and the Dangers of a Faux British Accent"**

_**. . .**_

"'Ello, Mate. Are you a happy bloke this morning?" Daisy asked in the worst British accent Swirl had ever heard.

She'd been doing this for the last three weeks, insisting that any true _Harry Potter_ fan should be able to speak British. Swirl had insisted that "British" wasn't actually a language, but Daisy had shrugged him off and called him a ponce.

"Oh, don't be such a wanker," she said, after he'd grumbled and turned back to his lunch.

Swirl's eyes practically bulged out if his head at the term. It took a moment to realize that wanker was just another Britishism. She wasn't actually referring to his… "nightly activities."

"Can you please pass me your sneakers?" she asked, emphasizing her English lilt.

"Um, why?" Swirl asked.

She smiled brightly. "Because you love me, and you'll give me anything I want."

Swirl wasn't particularly fond of walking around with no shoes on, but she was right; he did love her (even with the ridiculous British accent). He reached down and pulled the sneaker off his right foot. "Here you are," he said, offering it to her.

Daisy's face fell. "Why would I want that?" she asked, losing her accent.

"You said you wanted my sneakers," Swirl said.

"No, I want your _Snickers_ — your candy bar."

"I'm pretty positive that Snickers in British is still Snickers."


	13. Cakes

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Cakes and the Dangers of Over-Preparing"**

_**. . .**_

Swirl glanced over Daisy's shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for a cake for the five year anniversary party of MyT-Spot," Daisy said, clicking through the Google listings of Forks' bakeries. "I don't know where we're going to get it," she added sarcastically, noting the lone bakery in town. "There are just so many options."

"Why don't we get a vanilla sheet cake from the Thriftway?"

"Ugh, boring. It has to be special," Daisy said. "What do you think of pound cake with butter cream frosting?"

"Well, I think vanilla is specia—"

"Oh! Or spice cake with a pumpkin cheesecake filling? That sounds awesome!"

"I think vanilla sounds equally as—"

"Or white chocolate with raspberry filling!"

"I just think vanilla is more classic."

"Really, Edward? What is your deal with vanilla? They have over twenty different fun flavors." Daisy tossed an irritated look back at her boyfriend. His expression was close to panic.

"Nothing," Swirl lied. "We can go with whatever you'd like."

Daisy turned her chair around to directly face him. "No, really. What's wrong?"

There was a stilted pause before Swirl said, "I want it to be a surprise."

"Want what to be a surprise? The cake for the party?"

"Not exactly," answered Swirl, his cheeks reddening. "Our wedding cake."

That was certainly not what Daisy was expecting. "Explain. Immediately."

"Well, when I ordered it, I wasn't sure what kind you would like... so I ordered all of them," Swirl said.

"You ordered a cake already?" Daisy shrieked. "We aren't even engaged yet!"

"Yes, I realize that." Swirl crossed his arms defensively. "But I was thirteen and it seemed like a good idea at the time! It's the only bakery in town and they have a wait list!"

Daisy stared at him for a moment longer before turning back to the computer. Sometimes she would never understand the way her boyfriend's mind worked. "Ordered over twenty different kinds of cake," she grumbled to herself. "How many guests does he expect us to have?"


	14. Brownies

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Brownies and the Dangers of Daisy's Cooking"**

_**. . .**_

Swirl sat alone at his dining room table, staring at the plate of brownies Daisy had given him as a treat for Halloween night.

He had considered throwing them in the garbage, but Daisy might go digging in the trash, only to find his deceit and dump his sorry ass. That most likely wouldn't happen (Daisy didn't often look through his garbage), but still, he didn't want to take the chance.

He had considered dumping them down the food disposal, but they were hard as bricks and he wasn't sure water could soften those suckers enough to be properly destroyed.

He had considered putting them in sandwich bags and passing them out to trick or treaters, but he couldn't inflict that kind of horror on any poor, unsuspecting child.

One thing he knew he couldn't do was tell the girl he expected to spend the rest of his life with just how unappetizing her brownies were. But he also didn't want to lie to her. After the whole deputy sheriff debacle, he was still on shaky ground.

What was he going to do?

As if in answer to his thoughts, Dr. Cullen walked into the dining room. He spotted the brownies, picked one up and bit into it before Swirl had the chance to warn him.

"Oh, who made these?" Dr. Cullen asked, inspecting the brownie closely.

"Angela," Swirl lied, not wanting his father to hate his future daughter-in-law's cooking so early on in their relationship.

"Well, tell her great job! These are the best brownies I've had in a while." Dr. Cullen happily grabbed the plate off the table and carried it back to his office.

Swirl's jaw dropped. Why was he the only person on the planet who didn't like his girlfriend's cooking? Life wasn't fair.


	15. Lima Beans

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Lima Beans and the Dangers of Swirl's Green Thumb"**

_**. . .**_

"It's dead."

"Well, I wouldn't say it's dead as much as it's… on its death bed."

"No, Edward. That is one dead plant."

"I don't think it's really that dead. I think we still may be able to revive it. It just needs some sun."

"No, Edward," Daisy repeated, "you have failed."

"I did not fail," Swirl argued.

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"The experiment was to grow a plant, using a lima bean. You were supposed to grow the plant and gather data; I was supposed to write the report. How hard is that?"

"It's more difficult than it seems!"

"Even Mike Newton can grow a freaking lima bean plant!"

"If growing a plant was that easy, why the hell didn't you do that part?" Swirl asked.

"Because I figured that if you could manage an online t-shirt store, volunteer as a deputy sheriff, and manage to re-read _Lord of the Rings_ at least twice a month, you might be capable of watering a plant once a day," Daisy said angrily.

They glared at each other for a few heated moments, mentally shooting daggers at the other.

"Look," Swirl said, sighing, "write the report tonight. Bullshit whatever you have to — just pretend the plant is alive."

"But it isn't. It's dead," Daisy felt the need to point out again to her delusional boyfriend.

"Tomorrow," Swirl continued, gritting his teeth, "I will be in class with a live lima bean plant to turn in."

Daisy simply rolled her eyes, grabbed the data Swirl had collected over the past few weeks, and went home without saying another word. Swirl would probably just go buy a freaking lima bean plant from the Fork's flower nursery for tomorrow. It was fine by her. In the meantime, she had work to do.

Unsurprisingly, the next day in class Swirl showed up with a beautiful, fully grown lima bean plant.

"What did Mrs. Jefferies say when you showed up yesterday, begging to purchase a lima bean plant?" Daisy whispered dryly as Swirl took his seat next to her.

"She said that she didn't sell lima bean plants," Swirl whispered back stoically.

Daisy quirked an eyebrow. "Then where did that one come from?"

"Is it so hard to believe that a little bit of sun might revive a dying plant?" Swirl asked, ignoring her question.

Mike Newton sauntered into the class with a broad smile on his face — a bizarre contrast to the dead plant he held in his hand.

"Ah. How much did you pay off Mike?"


	16. Motorcycles

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Motorcycles and the Danger of Scrubs"**

_**. . .**_

It was one of those days. Swirl was having inferiority issues.

"Edward, really, I think you're being a little over dramatic."

"Am I now? Am I?"

"Yes," Daisy answered. "It's not that big of a deal."

"You were checking him out."

"I was not checking him out."

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were."

"In case you haven't noticed, I tend to like guys who are a bit smaller, not so buff. Geeky and pasty white is my style."

"Pasty white? Thank you," Swirl said. "That makes me feel so much better."

"I wasn't talking about you," Daisy said. "I was talking about Daniel Radcliffe."

"Oh, great. Yeah, that's even better."

"Stop being stupid."

"I'm not being stupid."

"Stupid people get stupid over stupid things."

Swirl's scowl deepened as he focused his attention back on the road. This wasn't the best idea, as the source of their argument was still riding in front of them a few cars ahead.

"Scrub riding a motorcycle," Daisy muttered. "What is this world coming to?"


	17. Voting

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Voting and the Dangers of Being Overambitious"**

_**. . .**_

"Okay, I've read over all the material on the candidates."

"It's not that big a deal, Edward."

"I've researched their histories and backgrounds thoroughly."

"Not that big a deal."

"I've spoken to each of them individually about where they stand on key issues."

"Really, it's not that big a deal."

"Bella, this is our right to vote, our right to democracy. A right our forefathers bled and died for. A right our brothers continue to die for. It's our patriotic duty. How can you say it isn't a big deal?"

"Because we're voting on the president of the student body of Forks High, not the president of the United States of America."

"That doesn't change anything."

Daisy looked at her stubborn boyfriend with a cocked eyebrow. "Please, just vote for Angela."

"Yes, my research did lead me to that conclusion."


	18. Books

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Books and the Dangers of Assuming"**

_**. . .**_

One of the things Swirl loved most about Daisy was how he could always tell what she was currently reading without having to ask her. She'd always leave him some hint in the way she spoke or how she was acting.

"How are you doing today?" he asked, walking up to his girlfriend in the hallway after school.

"I'm in the depths of despair," she answered, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes.

Ah. So, she was reading _Anne of Green Gables_.

"And why is that?"

"She died. She died and so did the hamster. And then… and then… and then…" but Daisy couldn't continue as her shoulders shook and the tears spilled freely.

Swirl wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. "I don't understand," he whispered softly in her ear. "Who passed away?"

"It's no one," Daisy responded, sniffling a little as she pulled away. "It's just in the book I'm reading. It's so sad."

Swirl looked at her in confusion. "I don't remember anything like that happening in _Anne of Green Gables_…"

"I'm not reading _Anne of Green Gables_. I'm reading _The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants_."

"Oh." So, apparently Swirl wasn't always right about Daisy. And he loved her all the more for it.


	19. Cubicles

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Cubicles and the Dangers of Canola Oil"**

_**. . .**_

"Cynthia says it doesn't hurt at all."

"That is so not true. Trust me, it hurts," Daisy said. The phone went silent. "Angela?"

"And how would you know that? Have you been hiding something? You talk as if you're some kind of expert."

"The web is practically one giant sexual education course. I have some websites I can send you if you want."

"Um, no, thank you. I think I'll pass."

"Seriously, it might help you get into Ben's pants."

"Oh, you mean like how it's helped you with Edward," Angela asked.

Daisy rolled her eyes. "I mean, it might help you to know what's coming so you're prepared. Because, despite the boys' abstinence, it WILL happen."

"If you say so."

"People just post about this stuff online. Like, this one site, it's a support forum for people who are waiting until marriage to have sex. And on this other, in this one topic about first times, a woman mentioned—" Daisy was interrupted by a warning beep in her ear.

"Ugh, Angela, my cell is dying. Let me call you back on my home phone."

"Okay, talk to you in a sec."

"Bye," Daisy said, closing her phone to end the call and picking up the home phone. Angela's number was one of the few she knew by heart, and she dialed it quickly, not wanting to lose her train of thought.

"Hello?"

"Anyway, it was this website about first times," Daisy continued right away. "And this woman posted that her and her boyfriend were trying to have sex for their first time, and she didn't realize that she needed to be lubricated until they couldn't get it in. But they didn't have any, so she went to the kitchen and used canola oil for lubricant," she finished with a laugh.

There was dead silence on the other end of the phone.

"Hello? Where are you?"

"I'm at my cubicle," a voice that distinctly was not Angela Webber's said over the line. "You've reached Anderson & Anderson Associates at Law. How – how may I help you?"

Daisy couldn't move and yet her heart pounded frantically. "Shit!" she hissed, pulling the phone away from her ear and ending the call as swiftly as possible.

The phone rang and Daisy squeaked before pressing the talk button.

"Bella? Where did you go? I've been waiting for you to call me back."

"Angela?"

"Yes, this is Angela. Who else would it be?"

_**. . .**_

_This prompt is based off a story that midnightstormy posted on ADF about her first time and canola oil. It still makes me laugh to this day – thank you for letting me use it._


	20. Statues

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Statues and the Dangers of Renee Dwyer"**

_**. . .**_

The moment Swirl walked into Daisy's room and saw the statue sitting on the window sill bathed in sunlight, he knew he was in trouble.

He needed to not panic and keep it cool. He knew what that statue meant and, to be frank, the fact that Daisy had one in her bedroom scared the living shit out of him. They'd have to have this conversation at some point in their relationship — he'd hoped it'd be later rather than sooner, but it seemed like it needed to happen now.

"Bella, why don't we sit down?"

"Okay," Daisy said, plopping down Indian style on her bed. Swirl gritted his teeth. She knew what being in any proximity of a bed did to him.

He grabbed the computer chair and pulled it over to her, choosing to forgo Daisy's obvious attempt to get him on the bed with her; he knew how that would end and they really needed to talk right now.

"I don't think we're ready to take that kind of step in our relationship," Swirl began, shooting a glance over to the statue in the window.

"Yes, I am well aware of your views on the subject," Daisy said.

"I think it's really important that we wait until we're ready. Ideally, we'll be married when it happens."

"Yes, I get that," Daisy said. "You don't have to rub it in."

"I'm just concerned about why you have that particular statue in your bedroom."

Daisy shot him a glare, stood up and walked over to the statue. "Look," she said, picking it up delicately, "I get that you don't want to yet, but I have to at least try, don't I? With you being such an obstinate ass, I need all the help I can get."

Swirl looked at her in confusion. "It's not like you can do it without me… well, unless you did it with some other guy," he added with a chuckle, knowing that she never would. Their future was set in stone.

"I've read some very intriguing articles online that suggest you don't need a male partner. I can do it by myself"

That shut Swirl up quickly. "You'd do it without me?"

"I really want one."

"But you're too young. It'd be really hard."

"You get to have them all the time! Don't even pretend you don't! It's not easy being a virgin at seventeen."

Swirl quirked his eyebrow. "What the hell are you talking about? Do you even know what that statue is for?"

"Of course I do," Daisy replied, blushing. "It's to help you... ya know… orgasm," she whispered the last word.

"No, that's a fertility statue. It's supposed to help you get pregnant."

Without hesitation, Daisy dropped the statue and let it shatter on the floor. "Oh my God! Shit! My mom bought that for me!"

Swirl repeated Daisy's curse. Apparently Renee was desperate for a grandchild… and that, over anything else, scared him most.


	21. London

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**London and the Dangers of that Blasted Boy, Harry Potter"**

_**. . .**_

It was a perfectly normal night in the Cullen household. Swirl and Dr. Cullen were downstairs working on a paper airplane collection they intended to bring with them to a Seattle convention in a few weeks; Mrs. Cullen was in the kitchen brewing up something that smelt rather tasty; and Daisy was upstairs in Swirl's bedroom working on some MyT-Spot order forms.

"Now, Son," Dr. Cullen said, holding up a tiny magnifying glass to the plane Swirl was working on, "you want to make sure that the tail is at a perfect perpendicular angle to the wings. It needs to catch the wind—"

The doctor was abruptly interrupted by a scream coming from the upstairs bedroom. Swirl froze in his seat — he'd know that voice anywhere.

"Bella," he whispered in a strangled tone to his father as his heart began to pound wildly.

It took another earth-shattering scream for his body to take action. Jumping up from his seat, he grabbed a pair of scissors and charged up the stairs. It was the longest seventeen seconds of his life before he managed to get up to his room.

His heart nearly stopped beating when he found the door locked, and he began to pound on it as if his life depended on it. "If you hurt her, I'll kill you!" Swirl screamed into the door, realizing that his life _did_ depend on getting into that room. Daisy was his heart and soul — if something happened to her, he could never forgive himself.

A moment later, the door gave way to the pounding of his fists, and he collapsed into the room, ready to punish whoever had dared hurt his beloved.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" he heard Daisy ask from above him.

He scrambled to his feet and pulled her behind him, wielding the pair of scissors in his outstretched arm to ward off the intruder.

"Are you okay?" Daisy repeated, this time in a panicked voice.

"Did someone attack you?" Swirl asked, his eyes moving around every nook and cranny of the room.

"What are you talking about?"

"You were screaming."

"That was my happy scream."

All the air seemed to rush out of Swirl's body. "Your what?" he asked, turning around to face her. He was slightly horrified to see a bright smile on her face.

"My. Happy. Scream," Daisy said slowly. "The scream I have when I'm happy."

Swirl stared at her, before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Excuse me? I don't understand."

"Oh my God, what kind of boyfriend doesn't know the difference between a happy scream and a scared scream?"

"Um… I don't know any boy who differentiates between the two," Swirl said. "What kind of girlfriend scares the living daylights out of her boyfriend by screaming bloody murder when she's happy?"

"Whatever. You're kind of missing the point — don't you want to know why I was screaming?"

"Unless a psycho murderer was coming in through that window to kill you, I don't want you screaming at all!" Swirl demanded in agitation.

"You're being overdramatic," Daisy dismissed his concern easily.

"I am not! I thought you were dying. I thought I'd never see you again," Swirl said, slightly choking over the words as they fell from his lips.

"I'm not dying. I'm going to London."

Everything stilled in the room as Swirl took in her last statement and Daisy waited excitedly for his response.

"You're going to…"

"London," Daisy finished for him, since his voice seemed to be broken. "Angela just called me and told me she sent me this email with all the information. We're leaving in a few weekends and staying for an entire week! Can you believe it?"

"No," was the only word Swirl seemed capable of mustering as he slid to the floor beside his bed, suddenly exhausted. She was leaving him. Granted, it was only for a week, but they had never been apart for that period of time. What if something happened to her? A plane crash? A trolley accident? What if she met Daniel Radcliffe in real life and he saw her from across the room and fell madly in love with her? She'd leave him forever…

"It's all paid for," Daisy continued, sitting down Indian style next to him. "And we're going to be staying in this grand hotel. And we're going to drink tea and ride a double-decker bus and maybe even learn British and—"

"What are you going for?" Swirl cut in.

Daisy grew quiet and solemn, almost as if she had to think about her answer before giving it. Swirl was immediately suspicious.

"Angela… has a grandmother that lives there," Daisy said. "Didn't you know?"

Swirl shook his head. He hadn't known that, nor did he really believe her. Something underhanded was underfoot (or whatever the phrase was).

"Anywhoooo, I'm going to go tell your mom," Daisy said.

"Okay. I'll be down in a minute," he responded.

"I'll see you downstairs," she whispered, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and standing up. "Thank you for rescuing me. I love you."

"I love you, too," he mumbled as she walked out the door.

Once he was sure she was down the stairs, he rose and hurried over to the computer. She had been on here just moments before the screaming had started, and he was sure he could find a hint as to her true motivation somewhere locked in the computer's memory.

But it was gone.

She had deleted the entire internet browsing history off the computer. She had lied and covered her tracks. Swirl wasn't sure what to make of it.

He turned off the computer and walked down to the dining room where his father still sat working on his paper airplanes.

"Why didn't you come?" Swirl questioned, taking his seat.

"What?" Dr. Cullen asked, focused intently on making sure all of the angles were perfect on his paper airplane.

"When Bella screamed, why didn't you come?" Swirl repeated.

"Because that was her happy scream."

"I don't get it," Swirl snorted, picking up his own airplane.

Dr. Cullen chuckled. "Son, every woman has a happy scream."

_**. . .**_

Swirl was happy that he had a convention to attend in Seattle with his father during Daisy's stay in London. The convention was a gathering for all different sorts of hobbies and interests, so it would help him take his mind off whatever she was doing so far away from him.

The weeks preceding Daisy's departure to England had been rather tense. No matter what means of persuasion Swirl used to try and get her to tell him the truth about her vacation to London, she stuck with the story that they were going for Angela's grandmother's birthday. She continued to act suspiciously, though, always deleting the computer's browser history and speaking to Angela in hushed tones whenever Swirl was in earshot. When he brought this up to her, Daisy simply shrugged off his concerns and changed the subject.

Swirl tried not to think of the outlandish scenarios he had concocted in his mind about what Daisy was actually doing in England (most of them involved a certain actor from a certain series that Swirl certainly hated) as he helped Dr. Cullen set up their convention booth.

They put up several of the different paper airplanes they had made over the years, along with books and how-to tutorials illustrating the subject more thoroughly. Swirl spent the first day of the convention in the booth with his father, talking to all sorts of people who were interested in paper airplanes (a subject matter that was often underestimated in the academic community) about the exciting facts and myths that surrounded the topic.

By the second day, Swirl was venturing further into the convention center, looking at the many different booths. He was fascinated by a display of birdhouses one family had set up, and enthralled by a ghost hunting exposition another put on. His favorite part, though, had to be the massive _Lord of the Rings_ exhibit, complete with actual armor and props from the set of the movie and an autographed copy of the series by JRR Tolkien. He spent several hours (and a lot of money) in that section of the convention.

He was heading back to check on his father when he caught sight of the one person he hated most in the world. Daniel Radcliffe.

Of course, it was just a life-sized poster of the actor surrounded by a bunch of other crappy _Harry Potter_ gadgets, but Swirl couldn't help glaring daggers at the inanimate picture. This was the boy that had taken his Daisy away from him, he was sure of it. Oh, how he hated Harry Potter with the fiery burning passion of a thousand suns.

"You like that, don't you?" the salesclerk asked, a huge grin plastered on his face.

"Excuse me?"

"You like that poster, right? I can't blame you; he's a good looking fellow."

Swirl gawked at him for a moment, before clearing his throat and saying, "I am not gay."

The salesclerk chuckled and walked over to stand next to him. "I can't blame you. As I said, he's not that bad on the eyes."

Why did people assume he was gay? First Daisy, and now this guy. "I repeat once more, I am not gay. I have a girlfriend"

The salesclerk shrugged.

"And even if I was," Swirl surprised himself by saying, "my interests would not lie in this… in this… in this _exhibitionist_," he spat the word.

"Oh, so you heard about the play?" the salesclerk asked with raised eyebrows. "I have to admit, I was surprised too."

"What play?" He had been referring to Harry's redundant attention-seeking behavior.

"The one where he gets naked."

Swirl's jaw dropped.

"Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction when I found out as well. It's called Equus or something, about a boy who likes to fuck horses. But the Radcliffe boy is doing it full-on nude. I think it's actually playing in London right now. It seemed interesting…"

The salesclerk's voice trailed off as Swirl turned from him and walked away, effectively numbing himself from the pain he felt in his heart.

That was it. That had to be it — it was why she had gone to England.

He made it as far as the outside corridor before he crumpled down and let out an agonizing cry of defeat and hurt.

Admittedly, he had been quite melodramatic before, thinking that Daisy had left him for the pleasure of another's company, but realized that he had never actually believed she would do it. Until now.

_**. . .**_

As planned, Swirl met Daisy and Angela at the airport exactly a week from the day she left. A small part of him was surprised she even returned home after apparently getting her heart's every wish and desire in London, and another small pang of jealousy rang through his chest when he saw the bright smile that lit up her face. Clearly she had been more than happy there.

He'd had a lot of time to think about how he was going to address the issue of her seeing another man naked. Naively, he had always just assumed that he would be the only one she'd want to see in that way. He'd decided to play it cool until they were home and in private, not even revealing that he knew what she had truly done while in England. He had written her a lengthy letter containing all of his feelings regarding the matter and planned to read it to her, hoping that she'd understand why her deception hurt him so much.

As Daisy approached, still smiling brightly, he clutched the letter resting in his pocket even tighter and reminded himself of his plan. It was definitely best to wait until they were home because he wouldn't be able to keep his emotions in check if he brought it up here.

"Hey, Edward!" she said.

"Did you enjoy Equus?" Apparently some things just can't go according to plan.

The smile dropped from her face. "Excuse me?"

"I said England," Swirl scrambled to correct his mishap.

"No, you didn't."

"Well, that's what I meant."

"But what did you say?"

"Did you enjoy England?"

"That's not what you said."

"But it's what I meant."

"But I asked what you said, not what you meant."

"I just wanted to know if you had a good time," Swirl said in exasperation.

Daisy's lip twitched a little, but she decided to let the topic drop. "Yes, we had a grand time."

"Awesome," Swirl responded.

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun," Angela said, standing awkwardly on the fringes of the group.

"Oh, so you enjoyed Equus as well?" Damnit.

"There it is again. What are you talking about?"

Swirl's gaze hardened. "Bella, just give it up already. I know."

Angela covered her mouth in horror. "He knows," she mumbled through her fingers.

"Yes, I know," Swirl repeated, turning to his girlfriend's best friend.

"How did you find out?" Angela asked, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"It's all over the internet! It's not like it's some big secret!" Swirl snapped, his frustration peaking.

"Oh my God, what am I going to do?" she whispered.

Swirl's face softened at her obvious discomfort. He'd been so caught up in the drama with his own girlfriend, he'd forgotten how it might affect Angela. She was the preacher's daughter after all. If it got out that she'd flown to London to see a play about a boy making love to horses… well, it might cause quite the scandal.

"Edward, I know you're close with him, but please don't tell Ben," Bella spoke up.

"Don't you think he has a right to know?" Swirl asked, easily reminded of the pain he was feeling at his own girlfriend's deception. It may not be exactly cheating to look at another man's nude form, but it certainly came close.

"He'll never let her live it down," Daisy said, imploring him with her eyes to understand the desperation in her plea.

"And I will? Is that why you kept it from me?"

"Bella wanted to tell you," Angela said. "But I asked her not to for my sake. Please don't be mad at her."

Swirl sighed as he looked into his girlfriend's beautiful, pleading eyes. The heat of the moment was slowly waning so he conceded to their request. "Okay, I promise not to tell Ben, or anyone else for that matter. I wouldn't want your parents to find out either, Angela."

"My parents?" she asked in confusion. "My parents already know. Why would they care?"

Now that was a twist. Swirl had always known that Mr. Webber was a little progressive in his teachings, but he had never considered that he'd so easily condone bestiality.

"Because of the nakedness… and the horses… and the sex…"

Daisy and Angela shared a perplexed glance. "There was no nakedness," Daisy said slowly. "There were horses around but nobody had sex with them. What the hell are you talking about?"

"The play!"

"What play?"

"Equus!"

"Edward, how many times do I have to tell you I don't read _Lord of the Rings_? I don't speak the language. Please translate."

"The play, Equus, the one that Daniel Radcliffe was in! Where he strips naked and does things to a horse! I know you went!"

Daisy stared at him for a moment. "Daniel Radcliffe was in a play where he gets naked?"

"You didn't know that?" Swirl asked, the tiniest sliver of hope peaking through the depression he had felt over the last couple of days. "Isn't that why you went to England?"

"There was a play in England where Daniel Radcliffe gets naked and we didn't go," Daisy whispered to herself, ignoring Swirl's question as she tried to reign in her astounding disappointment.

"You didn't go to the play?" Swirl needed to know.

"Oh my God, we didn't go to the play," Daisy said to Angela instead of Swirl. "How the hell could we be in England and not go to the play?"

"Because we didn't know," Angela reminded her clearly shocked best friend.

"You didn't know? You didn't go to the play!" This was possibly one of the happiest moments of Swirl's existence, and he couldn't help but sweep his girlfriend into a breathtaking hug.

"We didn't go to the play," Daisy repeated into his shoulder over and over again, disappointment seeping through every word. Swirl couldn't even bring himself to care that she was saddened by this turn of events — she hadn't gone. She hadn't even known! Brilliant!

"But why did you go, then?" he asked Angela, not really caring about the answer as long as it didn't include nude men and horses.

"I'm obsessed with Doctor Who," she said sheepishly. "I entered this online contest every day and won a walk-on role on the show. But please, please, please don't tell Ben! After all the years of crap I've given him over those stupid kung-fu movies, he'd never let me live this down. He'd be relentless!"

"I highly doubt that," Swirl said with a chuckle.

"Really? Because you don't give Bella any grief about _Harry Potter_?" she asked with a concerned glance to her best friend, who was still wrapped in Swirl's arms.

"Good point."

"Do you think she's going to be all right?"

Daisy was still mumbling softly about the play and looked to be on the verge of tears.

"I'm sure she's going to be just fine," Swirl answered. Turning back to Bella, he whispered, "Come on, we better get you home."

"I'd rather be back in England," Daisy responded. "How do you feel about a trip to London? I'm already packed."

Swirl laughed and gave her hand a slight tug. Oh, how he loved his silly girl.


	22. Screaming

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Screaming and the Dangers of Gross Stuff"**

_**. . .**_

It was a perfectly normal day at the Cullen household. Swirl and Dr. Cullen were out in the garden planting tulips; Mrs. Cullen was in the garage sorting through old sports equipment; and Daisy was down near the creek shooting pictures of plants for a MyT-Spot t-shirt design.

"Now, Son," Dr. Cullen said, "make sure to spread those bulbs out a bit wider. The color coordination we have going here is going to be incredible once they bloom, but we don't want to suffocate—"

He was cut off abruptly by a hair-raising scream coming from near the creek. Swirl's ears perked up at the sound — he'd know that scream anywhere.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Dr. Cullen asked as another scream rang out from the creek.

"It's her 'happy' scream," Swirl mumbled, continuing to dig holes for the tulips.

"No, that isn't."

"How can you tell?"

Dr. Cullen paused for a moment, thinking about the answer. "It's something you acquire through the years, not something that can be learned—" He was cut off by yet another scream. "Maybe this isn't the best time to talk about it. You should probably go check on her."

"Right," Swirl said with a nod, his heart picking up speed as a sudden rush of adrenaline hit him. He couldn't help but sprint as if his life depended on it down to Daisy.

What if she was hurt? What if she was being kidnapped and he had just shrugged it off because he couldn't tell the difference in her screams? What kind of boyfriend was he?

He reached the creek and looked around frantically, following the sound of his girlfriend's shrieks.

"Bella?" he called. "Bella, where are you?"

"I'm here," she called back, peeking her head out from behind a bush.

Swirl raced toward her, collapsing behind the bush and pulling her into his arms. "I'm here. I'm here," he whispered, brushing her hair softly as she tried to calm herself down. "What's wrong?"

"There was… there was…" she seemed too traumatized to get the word out.

"An attacker?"

She shook her head and tried taking a deep breath. "It was a… a…"

"Snake? Tarantula?"

Daisy shook her head again. "No, it was..."

_**. . .**_

"A frog," Swirl responded to his father's inquiry as he dropped back down next to the garden and started digging once more. "Apparently it jumped on her camera."

Dr. Cullen chuckled as he un-potted a bulb and stuck it in the ground.

"I just don't get it," Swirl said, venting his frustration through the shovel he propelled forcibly into the ground. "She insists on scaring the living hell out of me when she's happy. She does it when she grossed out. I bet she won't even make a sound when she's on the verge of being murdered."

"You just need to learn to listen closely, Edward. That was clearly her 'there's-a-spider-or-something-gross/scary' scream," Dr. Cullen said, still smiling.

"Teach me your ways, father."

"As I said, Son, it's all acquired."

"I'm so screwed."


	23. A Worthy Opponent

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**A Worthy Opponent"**

_**. . .**_

"Oh, look at that. I win again!" Daisy said gleefully, reaching over to swipe up the poker chips that had been bet during the last hand.

"How do you keep winning every single time?" Swirl asked.

"My father is a poker fiend. He taught me well," she giggled, dealing out the next round. Though two person poker wasn't generally as fun as three or four, Daisy was thoroughly enjoying taking her boyfriend's money. For someone so intelligent, she thought he'd be better at cards.

"Are you ready to be thwarted again, Mr. Cullen?"

Swirl watched Daisy closely every time she won. He loved the joyful spark she'd get in her eye and the giggles and squeals she'd bestow upon him. He knew he would never love another creature as much as he did her.

He was totally letting her win.

"Yes. And it couldn't be by a more worthy opponent," he whispered, leaning over and capturing her lips.


	24. Library Closets

**A/N:** This drabble was written as a gift to Isabeausink. I hope she, and everyone, enjoys it!

_Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent._

"**Library Closets and the Dangers of Felt Reproductive Organs"**

_**. . .**_

Mrs. Brooks had put the Book Club to work. She was doing a great and generous service, after all, by acting as club sponsor and allowing them to use her library. Why should she not reap the benefits of such an agreement?

She'd set the two gangly, tall boys the task of dusting all the library shelves. That included under the books. The other three she'd dispatched to clean the storage closet hidden in the back of the library.

Emmett, Angela, and Daisy groaned as they flipped on the lights to the closet. What looked like thirty years of wasted school equipment was packed inside — old Forks High t-shirts, newspapers, textbooks, retro-looking footballs and trophies, anything and everything imaginable from days long since forgotten.

"This is not a closet," Emmett said, taking in the sizable room.

The three students were equipped with brooms, dust rags, and dozens of trash bags. They had been instructed to throw out anything they deemed disposable and organize the rest. The task looked impossible from this side of the closet.

"You're right. It's not a closet. It's a tragedy," Daisy said, disheartened.

"We'll figure it out." Angela always was the optimist. "Emmett, you take that corner." She pointed to the space opposite the door.

"Righto, Madam President," he said.

"Bella," she nodded to the right side of the room. "And I'll take the other."

"On it," Daisy said.

For the next three hours, they sorted and scrubbed, moved and chucked, laughed and cried. They seemed to be making some sort of progress. Trails of empty space ran through the room, which, at the very least, made it easier to carry things in and out.

"Dudettes, come check this out!" Emmett called.

It took a second for Angela and Daisy to find their way over to him through the piles of crap. He was standing next to a tall, green felt board he'd propped up on a shelf, and was holding something that looked uncommonly like a deflated uterus.

"What the hell is that?" Daisy asked, taking the pink object from him. Upon inspection, she determined it _was _a uterus, cut out from felt fabric similar to the green board.

"I dunno," Emmett said. "I found it in this pile of sex shit. Look, it's a sperm." He dangled a small, squiggly cartoon sperm imprinted on white fabric in front of Angela's face.

Daisy sifted through a pile of textile reproductive organs. "This is like Sex-Ed from the seventies."

"We used to have those at church," Angela said.

"Really?" Daisy asked, holding up a fallopian tube.

"Not with sex parts, obviously. With nativity scenes and stuff. Here, watch." Angela unfolded a peach-colored cloth, that turned out to be a head-to-foot cut out of a boy's body, and stuck it to the green felt board.

"Ooooh," Emmett and Daisy hummed together.

"I get it now," Daisy said. "Then, this would stick to this." She placed a testicle where she approximated it would go on the groin.

"Exactly," Angela said. "We used them in church to—"

"Ah! Ah! It hurts," Emmett said, gripping his forehead.

"What's wrong?" Daisy and Angela asked urgently.

He smiled deviously. "I just got the best idea."

Thirteen minutes later there were both male and female body replicas (distinguished by their hair) stuck to the felt board, body parts were fixed to the replicas in a haphazard manner that no one outside the closet would understand, and Angela was blindfolded, holding a pink and blue scrotum.

"One… two… three…." Daisy counted, turning Angela in circles, then setting her in the direction of the board. Daisy took a step back next to Emmett to watch the blindfolded girl stumble her way towards the felt girl and boy.

Emmett and Daisy snickered as Angela reached the panel. She could only guess what body part they had given her and tentatively reached out to stick it on the board.

"That is excellent, Ange," Emmett said, applauding the scrotum's placement over the boy's left nipple.

Angela lifted the clean dust rag they were using as a blindfold and pumped a fist in the air at her handiwork. "I am president!" she said triumphantly.

"You certainly are," Emmett said, patting her on the back as Daisy gave her best friend a high five.

"My turn," Daisy squeaked, grabbing the blindfold. It was her opinion that Pin-the-Body-Part-on-the-Human should be an internationally produced board game for all to enjoy.

Angela secured the blindfold over her eyes, and Emmett handed her a body part. Three spins later and she was dizzily on her way to the board. Her fingers made contact with the fabric covering the hard surface and she raised the body part with her right hand, using her left to distinguish what section of the board she was on.

"Wait, a little to the left, Bella," Emmett said. "The other left. Little more. Perfect. Right there. Take a look."

Daisy ripped off her blindfold. She burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh, my God!" They had given her the penis. It was now positioned at the corner of the felt girl's mouth. "Emmett, you're such a perv!" She whirled to give her friend a teasing jab on the arm, and her laughter died instantly.

Behind the chuckling Emmett and Angela stood Swirl, arms crossed, in the doorway.

"We finished dusting the bookshelves," Swirl said. "I came to see if you needed an extra hand. Had I known you were having a _party_," he over-enunciated the word, "I wouldn't have bothered."

"No, we weren't! We were just, um, learning about..." Daisy looked at the board and scratched the back of her head. "Anatomy?"

Silently, Swirl walked over, not taking his eyes off Daisy as he peeled the penis from the girl's mouth and moved it to the boy's groin.

Daisy pinched her bottom lip between her teeth. "Yeah, I suppose that would go there."

Behind her, Emmett and Angela cracked up.


	25. Apron Strings

**Apron Strings and the Dangers of Electric Hand Mixers**

_**. . .**_

Her kitchen was a mess, but Esme could not have enjoyed the sight of her son baking with his new girlfriend any more. They'd been at it for the last few hours, working to make a variety of cookies for their Yearbook class. Esme sat on the opposite end of the long kitchen island, grading assignments and "supervising"—that was code for peeping. Swirl and Daisy were too cute together.

"Do you want to take a turn mixing the dough?" Swirl asked, pouring a concoction of flour, salt, and baking soda in with the rest of the ingredients.

"I'm not sure," Daisy said shyly. "I've never used one of those before."

"It's quite thrilling. Here. I'll show you how to use it." After demonstrating to her the proper mixing technique and which buttons to press on the electric hand mixer, Swirl stood behind Daisy, debating if he should make a move. Esme could tell because he kept lifting his hands to put them on either side of the girl, then dropping them back to his side.

"Am I doing it right?" Daisy asked, giving Swirl the push he needed.

"You want to go a little deeper so the flour can mix with the other ingredients. Like this." Finally, Swirl put his arms around Daisy so he could show her how it was done, like a true boyfriend.

It happened as if in slow motion. Daisy, surprised by Swirl's sudden touch, glanced over her shoulder and the mixer lifted to glance with her. Daisy must have felt it coming, because she ducked out of the way just in time for the mixer blades to whip a blast of flour at Swirl.

Esme rushed to hide her face behind her gradebook, a fit of laughter overwhelming her. Everything from his hair down to his waist was dusted in white.

Daisy was mortified as she fought to find the off button. "Oh. Oh, Edward. I am so, so sorry."

Peeking above her book, Esme saw Edward wiping the flour off his glasses. "It's quite all right," he said. "It wasn't awful for a first try. Really."

"You're just saying that to be nice."

"Not at all. You couldn't have anticipated my sudden… uh, interference. I should go wash this off. Can you help me untie my apron?"

"Of course," Daisy said, hurrying behind him with shaky hands. She tugged at the strings unsuccessfully. "It's knotted. God, I couldn't even do that right. What's wrong with me?"

Esme knew exactly what was wrong. Daisy was in love with Swirl, distracting her into oblivion. "Here, Bella," Esme said, rolling open a drawer and pulling out a pair of scissors. "Go ahead and cut the strings."


	26. Secrets

**Secrets and the Dangers of Snooping Boyfriends**

_**. . .**_

Swirl had five minutes, ten tops, to complete his search of Daisy's bedroom before she came back from the grocery store with Chief Swan. He was doing this because Daisy was forever snooping in his room, finding all manner of unexplainable things tucked in hidden corners: the strawberry-scented lotion in his bedside drawer, the stack of sex-research buried under his bed, and most recently the pair of undies stuffed between the pages of a book on his shelf (they were Daisy's so it wasn't all bad). He wanted her to know how it felt!

His fingers hit pay dirt as they slid under the mattress and collided with something solid. "Yes!" he growled victoriously, pulling out… a book! Better yet, a diary!

Swirl was practically shaking with anticipation as he held up the object he found even more valuable than treasure. This piece of manufactured trees contained Daisy's uncensored thoughts. He opened to the front page.

_07/10/01_

Before she came to Forks, Swirl noted.

_Dear Diary,_

_I'm so lonely.… _

A crisis of conscience hit Swirl. He shut the book. Diaries were supposed to be private. He couldn't read this.

But what if she secretly hated him?

Deciding it would be better to find out now rather than years from now, Swirl dove down on her bed and flipped to the first page.

_Dear Diary,_

_I'm so lonely. I need a boyfriend badly. All I want is a guy who will love me and hold me in his arms when I'm down. The sad thing is all the boys who ask me out, I don't like. I don't know if I've ever even really liked a boy. Well, except for Aiden Case but that didn't work out._

Swirl glared at the name. Who was this monster that had held Daisy's affections before him? He skimmed the rest of the entry, but no other mention had been made of this Aiden Case. Daisy would have some questions to answer later.

The next few entries were much of the same. Swirl's heart broke for poor Daisy. It appeared she had been desperately lonely before she moved to Forks. Any "friends" she mentioned were in passing and seemed insignificant. Swirl, at least, couldn't remember her mentioning them upon her arrival and he had an astoundingly good memory when it came to all things Daisy.

_09/5/01_

_Dear Diary,_

_Holy crap!_

_I moved to Forks to live with my dad and today was my first day of school and I met the most amazing guy ever! His name is Edward Cullen and I think he is so totally hot. And the best part is, I think he might like me too! Well, maybe. I may have kind of, sort of, accidentally asked if he was gay. Good news: he isn't!_

_I'll keep you updated. I can't stop squealing. I have freaking butterflies._

_Ahhhhhhhhh!_

_Bella_

Things were starting to look up! Swirl eagerly turned to the next page.

_09/8/01_

_Dear Diary,_

_It's the weekend, which means I won't get to see Edward again until Monday. I AM DYING! How am I going to survive? I miss him so much. I think I might love him already. Is it too soon?_

_Bella_

"I knew within the first second," Swirl said, turning the page.

_09/12/01_

_Dear Diary,_

_I, Bella Swan, on this day, the 12__th__ of December, declare that I am in love Edward Cullen. At least I think it's love. It's definitely more than a crush, though. All I know is that I dream about him, I think he's totally cute and handsome, and he has a very sexy voice…_

It was page after page of Daisy's growing fascination with him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should put the book down, but Swirl couldn't get enough. This was worth Daisy's ire. If the diary was any indication, she'd forgive him.

_04/29/02_

_Dear Diary,_

_I don't have much to tell you about my life right now. Edward is majorly getting hotter every day. He's such a babe. I can't believe he's my boyfriend and I get to kiss him anytime I want._

_Edward and I both have fears we will leave each other. I have already told you this. I think it is getting worse, not because I'm worried it will happen more, but because I am realizing more and more what will happen if it does. It will tear me apart. I will want to rip my heart out of my chest._

_He better not hurt me. I want him to myself… Always. I want to know he won't kiss anyone but me. When I'm with Edward, he makes me feel warm inside. That sounds… _

"What are you doing with that?"

Swirl grinned up at Daisy's petrified face. "You _do_ love me!"


	27. Ringers

**Ringers and the Dangers of English Assignments**

_**. . .**_

Bella Swan and Edward Cullen

April 3, 2004

English II

Assignment #9 – Partnership Writing

Student #1 will begin the activity by writing the opening paragraph of a fictional story. Student #2 will continue the story in the second paragraph. The assignment will rotate in this order, one paragraph per student, for 45 minutes until the story is complete. Students will be graded on how well they incorporate their ideas with the ideas their partner has established. Conversation is not permitted during the activity.

_Muyuril, son of Merdoth, glanced forlornly down at the white tree that adorned his suit of armor as the realization further sunk in that he was nothing more than a lowly soldier of Gondor. How could he ever be worthy of Bellewyn Riel, the Elven beauty with whom he had unwittingly fallen desperately in love? At the thought of her name, he drew in a shuttering breath, recalling the way she had ensnared his heart with a single look. It was during a secret conquest for Gondor that first he laid eyes on her. She was a bewitching presence, with thick, brunette tresses that fell over her shoulders in waves as smooth as glass. Her eyes were of the deepest brown, penetrating his every thought and emotion. She was, in a word, perfection. What could he say, what could he do, to convince her of his worthiness? He was risking everything—his life, his conquest, his honor—to meet her tonight at a secret location in the realm of Lothlórien. But he couldn't not. He couldn't not look upon her divinity. He couldn't not hear her warm, breathy voice. He couldn't not tell her how he felt. He would give his soul, if he had to, for a single kiss. A slight wind ruffled Muyuril's helmetless bronze hair and he knew, without even a glance, she was here._

.

Daisy tapped her pen restlessly as she waited for Swirl to complete the one-paragraph book he was writing next to her. The assignment hadn't stipulated what Student #2 was supposed to do when Student #1 hogged the paper for a solid fifteen minutes.

Finally, Swirl seemed satisfied with his work and handed Daisy the paper. She bit the inside of her cheek as she read his composition. Why wasn't she surprised he was using this assignment to act out one of his weird _Lord of the Rings_ fantasies? He'd hinted several times over the course of their relationship that he wanted Daisy to join his RPG forum, so she could play the part of Bellewyn Riel in front of all his online friends. It was too weird and she was not about to indulge his elf fetish, especially if their English teacher was going to read it.

.

_Muyuril tumbled back as he took in the sight of Bellewyn. She was not happy or receptive like he thought she would be. She was clearly furious. It was then that she did something very confusing. She took from her Elven dress a wooden instrument that Muyuril did not recognize and muttered under her breath. She was instantly transformed. No longer did she have pointy ears and a slick, Elven dress. She was wearing the strangest hat he had ever seen and a robe. "There is something you need to know," she said. "I am not an Elf. I am a witch. And my name is not Bellewyn Riel. I am Rowena Ravenclaw, and you, Muyuril, have failed."_

_._

Bella watched in complete satisfaction as Swirl's eyes narrowed at her addition.

.

_Muyuril pulled his sword from its sheath. "What is this treachery?" he shouted, no longer under Bellewyn's spell. In a few moments' time she had become the ugliest pseudo-creature he had ever seen._

.

_With a flick of her stick-like thing, the sword was in Rowena's hand. Muyuril nearly peed his pants in fear. She was so powerful. So gloriously frightening. "Let this be a lesson to you, Muyuril," she said. "Never fall in love with a woman because of her beauty. Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."_

.

_A sword suddenly pierced through Rowena's back. She let out a blood-curling scream before falling to the ground—dead. Boromir, son to the Steward of Gondor, stood above her lifeless body. "And let that be a lesson to you, witch," Boromir said, "not to mess with a Gondorian soldier."_

.

"You killed me?" Daisy whisper-shouted.

Swirl gave her a cold, dramatic look. "You killed yourself, _Rowena_."

Daisy slumped back and stewed in her anger before she said, "I hope you're happy. Hogwarts will never get founded now."


	28. Tug of War

**Tug-of-War and the Dangers of Future In-Laws**

_**. . .**_

Dr. Cullen's ear twitched when he heard Chief Swan ask, "Hey, Edward, you ever learn how to properly barbecue a burger?"

"I don't believe so, sir."

"Come on over. This is something every man should know how to do."

Swirl all too readily jumped at the opportunity, leaving his father alone at the patio table. Dr. Cullen did his best to ignore the prickle of jealousy in his chest. This was the Chief's house, after all.

"Now, the first step to a perfect burger is finding the right meat. Don't ever let me catch you serving my daughter a pre-frozen patty."

"Yes, sir."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dr. Cullen caught Swirl trying to hold his soda can in the same easy manner Chief Swan held his beer. The green-eyed monster reared its ugly head. _That's __**my**__ son_, it said.

"Always go with beef. Don't skimp on cost, either. You want your beef to be juicy and tender. Personally, I lean toward a fresh, twice ground, eighty-twenty sirloin."

Swirl was intently focused on the Chief's every word. "Eighty-twenty?"

"That refers to the ratio of fat in the beef."

"Keep in mind, Edward," Dr. Cullen couldn't help saying, "that there are healthier alternatives to beef. Turkey, for instance."

"Valid point, Carlisle." Chief Swan tipped his beer in salute. "But, Edward, also keep in mind that anything other than beef will taste like garbage."

"Got it," Swirl said.

The green-eyed monster growled. Chief Swan was both Dr. Cullen's best friend and his most formidable opponent.

"Let's talk seasonings," Chief Swan said. He pulled the aluminum off a platter of already formed patties. "Stick with the basics. Salt and pepper."

"Really?" Carlisle interjected. "I enjoy a dash of good parsley and garlic. Maybe some thyme, some cumin, some jalapeno pepper. A few teaspoons of McCormick's steak seasoning never hurts."

Chief Swan opened the grill's cover. "That's because you've been eating turkey burgers. If you buy the right beef, you let it do the talking."

Lips pursed, Dr. Cullen sat back and furiously plotted how he, for once, could get the upper hand on Chief Swan. The problem was Swirl. He'd raised a little brown-noser.

Case in point. "Uh, Dad, I think Coach and I can handle the barbecuing. Maybe you can go inside and help Mom get the side dishes ready." Swirl wasn't just asking with his words; he was pleading with his eyes.

Dr. Cullen needed to regroup anyway, so he nodded and headed into the kitchen. In there, he saw two things: Daisy's head buried in her SAT prep book and a slew of ingredients—lettuce, onions, mushrooms, avocados, tomatoes, and pickles—sitting on the counter. An idea so brilliant it was almost wicked hit Dr. Cullen. The green-eyed monster eagerly nodded his approval.

"Hey, Bella, have you ever learned how to," he looked at the ingredients and selected the one he knew he couldn't mess up, "dice a tomato?"

She did him the honor of actually looking up from her book, a rare occasion these days. "Charlie says I'm not supposed to touch knives."

Green-eyes grinned deviously. "Even better. Why don't you take a break and come on over here. I can show you a thing or two."

A flawless demonstration of dicing technique filled the next ten minutes, ending in a bowl of beautifully cut tomato pieces. Dr. Cullen imagined Daisy taking the bowl out to Chief Swan and endlessly boasting about who had helped her achieve her new skill. The words "Dr. Cullen is the best future father-in-law in the whole universe" floated around in his head. He debated showing her how to chop up the onion next, just to add insult to injury.

"I do have one question," Daisy said. "How are we supposed to put these tomatoes on our hamburgers?"

Dr. Cullen's delusions of victory and grandeur came to a screeching halt. He looked back at the ingredients on the counter. "All this sitting out here isn't for a salad?"

Each shake of Daisy's head was a knife to his ego, slicing him as easily as he'd sliced those tomatoes. "Esme already made a Caesar salad. Those are burger toppings."

"Right." Dr. Cullen dragged out the word, trying to figure his next move before Swirl and Chief Swan came in. "You wouldn't happen to have any other tomatoes stored away… No, of course not. Okay, I'm going to run to the store. Can you do me a huge favor?"

"Anything."

He would conquer his foe another day. For now, it was all about maintaining his dignity. "Don't tell your dad what happened here."

The bowl went with him to hide the evidence.


	29. Sheets

**Sheets and the Dangers of Drunken Confessions**

_**. . .**_

"_Oh baby, I wanna get wit'cha.  
And take yo picture._

_My homeboys tried to warn me,  
But that butt you got makes me so horny._

_Ooh, Rump–_" 

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait Edward," Daisy said, grabbing her boyfriend's arm to stop him from dropping the array of pillows, sheets, and blankets he'd collected from Alice's guest bedroom on the bathroom floor.

Swirl halted but kept humming the jaunty tune. It hadn't left them with the forest.

"Look at him," Daisy sighed.

"Who?"

"Willow." The dog was sitting in front of them, his head slanted up in earnest. "He's just… Guh. He's sooooooo cute. Like, ridiculous cute. Oh, my God! He's you!"

"Me?"

The dog's head tilted, causing his ears to flop back and Daisy's heart to burst. Everything was charming when she was sloshed. "How could I have not noticed before? You're the two most handsomest men in the whole world. Yes, you are, Willow. Yes, you are. You're just adorable. I wuv you so much."

"Hmmm… I don't see it," Swirl said. "Can I put these down now?"

"Of course. You don't need my permission."

Swirl smiled lovingly and dumped the bedding. Daisy wasted no time in falling onto the disorganized pile. Everything was comfortable when she was sloshed. Pulling a pillow out from under the mound, Swirl joined her.

"What should we do now?" Daisy asked, cozying up to Edward's chest. Her buzz had faded significantly but was far from gone.

"I think we should tell each other our deepest, darkest, most embarrassing moments."

"Why on Earth would we do that?"

Swirl held up his left hand, the one with the blue ring drawn around his finger. "I just think, now that we're kind of married, we shouldn't have any secrets."

That was good enough for Daisy. "Okay! You first."

"Why do I have to go first?"

"Because it's your idea."

"That is true." Swirl inhaled dramatically. "Here goes. When we first met, I used to… um, have you ever heard the term, 'nocturnal emission'?"

"No."

"How about 'wet dream'?"

Daisy scrunched up her nose. "Is that where you pee your pants while you're sleeping or something?"

"No, no, no. It means that I," Swirl squinted his eye, "ejaculated in my sleep when I had dreams about you, which was almost every night."

Daisy fell into a fit of giggles. Everything, especially her boyfriend's deviant confession, was funny when she was sloshed.

"Hey." He swatted her hair. "Don't laugh. It was horrifying. My Mom got so tired of doing my laundry, I had to do it myself."

"I'm sorry," Daisy said, calming herself. She turned over and crawled up his chest so she could plant a kiss on his lips. "I think it's sweet that you used to do that."

"You do?"

"Of course. Is it normal?"

Swirl scoffed. "Yes, it's normal. Research suggests over eighty percent of males have experienced nocturnal emissions."

"Well, that's a relief."

"Now, tell me yours. I've earned it."

"Wait a minute. I think it's about to happen."

"What do you mean?"

"I need to throw up."

Swirl soon learned that some things should be kept private.


End file.
